


The Synth Component

by N3kkra



Series: Companions' Love [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Awkward Danse, Background Plot, Danse knows what he's doing though, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gonna try to make this short, I won't let the plot take over, Loss of Virginity, More like a chapter or two in, Not really eventual, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut, fuck plots, was supposed to be a one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-09-30 01:25:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10150004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N3kkra/pseuds/N3kkra
Summary: Curie just got her synth body and she needs a few days to adjust before going out adventuring. Only problem is Sole is about to go on an extended trip to some place called Nuka World, and all the Companions are leaving Red Rocket to attend to their lives outside of Sole... all but ex-Paladin Danse who doesn't have anywhere else to go, just like Curie.





	1. Fluttering Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to go a whole lot deeper than I thought it was going to, it was supposed to be a one shot and already I can see it taking a few chapters /sigh/ I just hope I don't let myself get carried away with the ideas that I have to make this an extended piece...  
> I really need to just focus on one or two works, but then I get ideas like this...  
> It's all your guys' fault, I want to share my ideas with you /sigh/ 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Curie**

 

            “Oh, Mademoiselle Nora, I am so sorry,” Curie felt completely awful. Before the operation she had felt completely fine –as much so as a Miss Nanny could. Now everything was just so very overwhelming. Moisture stung her eyes and she wiped at it with the heel of her palm, but it only drove more tears out.

            “Hey, Curie, sweetie, it’s fine,” Nora smiled and took her shoulders. The smaller woman sniffled and made a mental note to find a journal to keep track of her physical reactions to external stimuli, such as how it warmed her some when hands were placed on her. “You’re taking in _so much_ right now that you didn’t have before. I totally understand you might need a few days.”

            “I simply wish to aid you in your search for that signal’s source,” the synth tried to speak normally, but her throat closed with a choke and she very nearly stomped her foot in frustration. “I do not understand this body!” she shouted and Nora smiled.

            “Your accent’s so cute,” the woman chuckled and rustled Curie’s hair. It was long and dark, falling in curling waves around her shoulders. How unprofessional, she would need to pin it up… if only she knew how to do that. “I love the diversity in the Wasteland, even after all this time we still have accents from all over the world.”

            Curie flushed and sniffled again. She needed to sanitize her face. All of it. The radiation lingering in the air from animals and toxic waste was surly not aiding her. The mucus and tears would only act as magnets to draw everything in the air right to her. Every time she sniffled she just brought it all right back into her system. Oh… she was going to kill this body before she even managed to make a single scientific achievement. More tears came and Nora started to wipe them away with her dirty hands.

            “Hey, come on, Curie,” she tilted her head, blonde hair falling out from behind her ear. “You’ll like my friends, they’re all nice, and I’m sure they’ll be more than willing to help you with your situation.”

            “I wish to remain with you, but… I cannot.”

            “I know, and hey, when you’re feeling up to it, I promise I’ll bring you by the Prydwen, yeah? Just… keep it to yourself that you’re a synth,” she smirked and Curie’s brows frowned. “They don’t like synths.”

            “Oh, yes, I can understand the reservation, human augmented with technology.”

            “Yeah, they… sort of think it’s playing God, and they don’t much care for it. But you’re not the only synth I know,” the woman added and they continued up the road passed Concord. It had been a long, _long_ walk from Goodneighbor, and Curie was exhausted, her petite hardly able to keep up with the athletic Nora Walker. “You’ll like Nick Valentine, he’s sweet,” she started to explain. “He’s a… prototype, so he looks more like a Gen 2 synth, but he’s not as…” the taller woman’s smirking lips pursed. “Hard. Yeah, he’s like, half way between a Gen 2 and you, a Gen 3.”

            “He sounds marvelous.”

            “I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.” Then Nora tilted her blonde head upward and narrowed her eyes to see better against the setting sun. Curie followed her stare to catch the sight of a Red Rocket Station with a massive billboard advertising Nuka World with the Nuka Girl space adventurer. “Danse… is a little… different,” she added and they came to a stop just before reaching the settlement.

            “What ever do you mean?” Curie tilted her head.

            “He… was in the Brotherhood, and… he didn’t know what he was,” Nora explained and frowned some. “He’s… adjusting still, and he’s a bit sensitive about the subject. The others here… well no one really got along with him before he found out, they all thought he was a bit of an asshole, and then they weren’t exactly kind when his world was turned upside down.”

            “Oh my,” Curie’s brows arched upward and Nora nodded.

            “So, just give him some space, yeah? Don’t avoid him, though, just… be you, Curie,” she smirked and cupped the synth’s face. “If anyone can make him feel better it’ll be you. I’ve done what I can for him, but he’s still so… lost.”

            “Is that the boss?” a voice called from up the hill and Nora spun around, her face lighting up.

            “Get your skinny ass down here, Mac!” she hollered and started back up the hill. Curie quickly followed and nervously combed her hair from her face and straightened the button up flannel that the body had been wearing before the procedure. Nora had given her some armor to protect her on the way back and a laser rifle to use, but she was by no means comfortable shooting people.

            A man in a long tan coat ran up to Nora and dipped down enough to grab her up, catching her around the waist, and lifting her off her feet to spin her around. “Almost though you forgot about me,” he smiled at her and set her back down on the ground. She slapped his arm.

            “I just came to trade a few things.”

            “Oh, I see, all I’m good for is hauling your crap,” the man smirked with sky-blue eyes and then turned them over to Curie. “Who’s this?”

            “This is my new friend, Curie. I found her in Vault 81.”

            “Oh, I thought Hancock said she was a Miss Nanny?”

            “She was, now she’s… a synth,” Nora waved Curie forward. “Curie, this is my boyfriend Robert MacCready.”

            “Bonjour, Monsieur MacCready.”

            “Hah, nice to meet you, Curie,” he held out a hand and she took it, giving his long, thin, callused fingers a shake.

            “The pleasure is mine.” Others were coming out from the Station, face of all sorts coming to see Nora.

            “Hey guys,” she cheered and immediately started to skip over and offer up hugs. MacCready held back and watched, gently tilting his head to scratch at the hair behind his ear. Curie stepped forward when the woman beckoned her. “This is Curie,” she took the synth around the shoulders and pulled her into her side. “Curie, this is everyone.”

            “Piper Wright,” a woman with dark hair and tanned skin stepped forward with a wide lipped smile and searching eyes. Curie shook her hand and then a ghoul stepped up.

            “Hey there, Curie, lookin’ good,” he smiled and slipped passed her hand to give her a hug. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you who I am, doll. Love the new look by the way,” he planted a kiss on her cheek and her face exploded into a burst of heat and she struggled to breath. Nora swatted at the red frock coat he was wearing.

            “Damn it, John, she’s already having enough problems with understanding _feelings_ , she doesn’t need you messing her up any more!”

            “Hey, I’m more than happy to help her understand her feelings,” the ghoul lifted a brow at her and Curie’s heart stuttered.

            “ _Hancock_!”

            “All right! All right!”

            He lifted his hands and stepped back as an old, beaten up synth stepped forward and tipped his worn fedora, “Curie.”

            “Monsieur Valentine, yes?”

            “Nick is fine,” he smiled and she returned it. He was startling at first, missing part of his face to show the gears and mechanics within, but he was kind, as Nora had said.

            “Cait’s back there,” Nora said and pointed to a red haired woman who was reclined on a bench beside a fire under the overhang of the station on a small paved area. “Cait! Say hi!”

            “Piss off!”

            “She’s just mad because Danse put her on her ass when they sparred earlier,” Hancock smirked. “I told her not to call him a robo-soldier.”

            “Where’re Preston and Dogmeat?” Nora’s brows frowned.

            MacCready answered, coming forward, “They went to help Tenpines with some raiders.”

            “Oh, well, we’re going to miss them, and Deacon?”

            “Railroad business.” She pursed her lips. “Where are we going?”

            “Nuka World, I got a radio signal, and I want to check it out,” she lifted her Pipboy and Curie glanced at it curiously. She would very much like one. Nora had told her the Vault just passed Sanctuary had crates of them and that if she wanted, she was welcome to them.

            “Sounds like fun,” MacCready smiled and Nora nodded, stepping closer to him.

            “We leave in the morning, I want to help Curie get settled in.”

            The synth was looking around the settlements, watching the turrets turn this way and that, looking passed the station to see wood and metal houses built up in neat rows, and the crops planted in neat rows on the other side of the settlement. It was so… calm.

            “Come on, I’ll show you to your house.”

            “House?” Curie’s brows jumped.

            “Yeah, I normally let you pick, but we’ve only got one left, it’s between Hancock’s and Danse’s.”

            The synth gulped and followed as the others went to settle in by the fire, all but Hancock who came with, following beside Curie. “Don’t let the big Tin Can scare you,” he said with a smirk.

            “Tin Can? Is this in reference to his being a synth?” she asked quietly and the ghoul chuckled.

            “Nah, you’ll see when he gets back.”

            Nora turned around from her lead several feet in front of them, “He’s not in the garage?”

            “Nah, he wanted some air after that fight with Cait.”

            Nora frowned and scratched at her hair, it was long, longer than Curie’s, hanging passed her shoulders, straight down her spine. “Hopefully he’s back before Mac and I leave, I wanted to talk to him.”

            “He’s fine, Nora.”

            “Easy enough for you to say, John, you were the first one to laugh at him when I brought him here from that Listening Post,” Nora glared at the ghoul and stopped outside a blue door in front of a wooden structure pressed up between two others, they all looked the same, but the doors. The one to the left was red, the one to the right was orange. “This is your house, you can do whatever you like with it, Curie,” Nora smiled and opened the door.

            The synth stepped forward and peered in. It was simple. A couch and coffee table upon entry with a radio sitting on the short surface, a kitchenette filled the back wall with a window overlooking the hills to the west, stairs took up most of the space between the living room and the kitchen and she assumed the bedroom was up there. “It is… perfect, Mademoiselle Nora.”

            “Please, just Nora, Curie, come on,” she patted her shoulder. “Come back up front when you get settled.”

            Then Nora and Hancock left her, staring at her dark space alone, but Curie was only happy.

            Until tears burned her eyes.

            Why was she crying? She was happy, not sad or in pain? It was so strange….

 

 

            Once Curie got all of her things unpacked and had explored her upstairs, she returned to find everyone smiling, laughing, and drinking. Nora and MacCready now had two little boys with them –Shaun and Duncan; she heard them called. They were a happy looking family and the boys begged to spend the time their parents were gone with Mama Murphy, as her stories were the best around.

            As Curie sat, she listened to everyone making plans to leave, and it made her shoulders gradually slump more and more and her smile to be harder and harder to hold in place. Hancock needed to check back in with Goodneighbor. Piper had her sister to worry about, as well as her paper –MacCready then made a joke about some Guard named Danny that made Piper flush and start yelling denials. Cait wanted to see if she could earn some caps in the Combat Zone now that she was clean and didn’t require Psycho to fight. Even Nick commented on his need to check in on his agency.

            Curie kept her eyes down cast and used her chopsticks to turn her noodles around and soak up some more of the broth. Would she be left alone here? That didn’t sound very comforting… it made her eyes sting again.

            A hand touched her shoulder and she glanced up, half expecting Nora or Hancock, but it was Nick and he was giving her a questioning look. “You all right, there, Curie?”

            “Oh, yes, Mons– er, Nick…” He smiled at that and sat down next to her, he gave a soft grunt, and Curie listened to the sound of his joints. He seemed quite old….

            “Nora’s really happy you’re here,” he said and tipped his chin up toward the woman who was holding one of the boys in her lap, bouncing her leg and nuzzling into his neck. “She loves having us all here to see her.”

            “She has been through so much, how does one woman move on after such travesty?”

            “She’s strong, but it’s wearing on her. She’s… not the same she was when we first met. Of course, with what she’s been though, I don’t think anyone would be.”

            “Oui…” Curie whispered and frowned thoughtfully.

            “Don’t let it get you down, you’re her friend, she won’t let anything bad happen to you,” he touched her shoulder again and Curie nodded.

            “Je vous remercie, _Nick_ ,” she said carefully, trying to keep from being so formal with him. He just smiled at her and stood up with a huff, using the arm rest to push him up.

            “I’m getting too old for this,” he grunted and then headed off toward the houses. “I’ll see ya in the mornin’, Curie.”

            “And you,” she said back. The others followed as the night grew dark. Curie was… surprisingly not tired, though, and opted for a Nuka Cola and a journal with a still-working pen.

            The fire gave poor lightly, but she let her French swears fall from her lips quietly when there was no one around. Again, she was alone, like in the Vault… but it was different now.

            The wind felt nice, brushing against her skin and pushing her hair into her face. She had to fight it, but she decided it was worth it as the hair was soft in her hands, and then she noticed she enjoyed the feeling of fingers tangling in the strands. Quickly she wrote this down in her neat notes, setting up categories of physical reactions and their stimuli. If she could get a terminal up in her home then she could save all of this to a holotape…

            The ticking of turrets nearly masked the sound of the power armor approaching, but Curie was immediately torn from her thoughts to look up and see the X-01 suit come over the hill from the north, a bleeding radstag hanging over its shoulder. Her brows lift high and her eyes stretched wider than they ever had before.

            The driver didn’t glance her way, their helmet facing forward as they crossed into the settlement and then strode on right passed her toward the side her house was on. Then it stopped and turned near the doorway into the Station. With too much ease, the power armor strung up the buck, and was leaving it to circle back around the Station, walking under the overhang, passed her again, but closer to the windows now, to the garage on the other side.

            Her curiosity got the best of her and she stood up, folding her notebook shut and tucking it into the back pocket of her jeans. Curie rounded the corner in time to watch the suit back up to the power armor work station and then freeze. There was a hiss, and then the back opened up. She kept close to the wall, trying to get a good view of the driver before they could see her. When the suit slumped forward some, a very, _very_ large man stepped around it and quickly reached up, grabbing the hooked chains from the top of the station to lock the armor in place to be cleaned and repaired.

            He was a muscular thing, wearing a black uniform that clung to him to show his whole body from the thick mess of black hair to the dull shine of his leather boots. Her mouth went dry, seeing him strain to pull the chain down enough to get it to latch onto the armor and support it. He grunted and turned just enough she could see his profile.

            Straight nose with a heavy brow and low cheekbones with a wide jaw and curved chin. He had thick black hair everywhere, his head, his eyebrows, his jaw and mouth…. Her breathing was picking up as she watched his lips part in frustration and his fine teeth clamped together in a near growl.

            When the armor was secure he turned around and then noticed her. Instead of being startled or angry, his brows simply drew together, and then he turned away, going to a toolbox to grab a rag from the top and a bucket beside it. Curie’s heart fluttered when he came toward her and then stopped.

            “Oh, uh, bonjour, I am Curie,” she offered out a stiff arm and he looked at it briefly before dropping the rag in his hand into the bucket and took hold of hers.

            “Sebastian Danse.”

            “Ah, so you are–” she swallowed the rest of that sentence and his brows creased. He withdrew his hand and then stepped around her. She’d neglected to notice she was standing right next to the water pump. “Nora only just brought me here today,” she said, awkwardly and Danse nodded.

            “So I guessed,” he answered and placed the bucket under the spout. Then he went back to the toolbox and grabbed a box of abraxo cleaner.

            She watched him, frozen in place as he poured the mix of white powder in with water from the pump. When he was done with it he went back over to the power armor and put the bucket on the ground to start unbuckling his flight suit at the throat and unzipped it down to his navel. Then he peeled the thing off and tied the arms around his waist. Curie’s heart fluttered again. She had not idea what was wrong with her. She was getting so… hot, and her mind was getting cloudy. Suddenly she was speaking, “It seems many of the others will be leaving soon…. Nora wants to go to a place called Nuka World. I have very little data on such a place, but I seem to recall it being a prewar amusement park.”

            “They’re leaving in the morning, I’m guessing?” Danse glanced at her and her breath left her. He was wringing out the rag over the bucket, his body three quarters turned so that she could just see the hair of his chest and the smooth muscles of his back. Scars marred the flesh, though, crossed in all ages and sizes and directions. She stepped a little closer, looking at them, how they bent and curved to the tones of muscles.

            “Um, oui,” she answered and he nodded, turning back to his armor and starting to run the rag over it, getting the blood from the radstag off. “Would you like some assistance?”

            “I’m fine,” he breathed. His voice was deep, throaty, with a gentle base that shook her to her core. It was an odd feeling. No matter what he said, she enjoyed hearing him speak. She wanted to hear him say more, but her cheeks flushed, and she didn’t know if she should let him be.

            “Will you be leaving as well?”

            “No.”

            “Oh,” she smiled, at least she wouldn’t be alone anymore. One person was better than no one, and… she liked the idea of this man sticking around. He was huge, strong, and obviously skilled. “All right. I shall see you in the morning, yes?”

            “Affirmative,” he stated, seeming distracted by his armor. She nodded and walked around the back of the Station to go to her blue door, heart still fluttering strangely in her chest. Curie took out her notebook and began scribbling down notes.


	2. Dimpled Cheek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danse is attracted to her, even if he won't admit it right away.

**Danse**

 

            Danse got up before the sun and went to the deer he’d strung up last night. Once he’d finished cleaning his armor, it’d been too late to see, and everyone was sleeping so he didn’t want to turn on a generator to power the lights. The sun would be up soon enough, though, and in the pre-sunrise morning, he had just enough dim illumination to see where he was sticking his knife.

            He had it nearly cleaned when a figure stepped up and leaned against the wall beside him.

            “Morning, Walker.”

            She chuckled, “Come’on, Sebastian, we’re friends.”

            He sighed and glanced at her, she was lifting a brow at him and he nodded. “We are.”

            “What’s eating you?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “You never let Cait piss you off like that.”

            “She was relentless this time,” he said and cleaned the knife. “She wanted a fight, and I think she underestimated my hand-to-hand skills.”

            “Maybe you should go to the Combat Zone? Let of some steam and get some caps?” she tilted her head and he pursed his lips. It wouldn’t be the worst idea offered up to him. So far that went to having him become a Minuteman –that would only result in him eventually coming across Brotherhood forces…

            “Perhaps, don’t hold your breath,” he added and stepped around her.

            “You’ll watch Curie for me, right? She’s going through a lot right now, and can’t come with otherwise I’d bring her with me and Mac…”

            Danse glanced at her with narrowed eyes. “You’re leaving her with me so I can watch her?”

            “Well, everyone else is leaving, so I actually thought it’d be a more mutual thing. She can listen to whatever you need to talk about. She’s super friendly… and cute,” Nora tilted her blonde head and some hair fell out from behind her ear. Danse nodded and rinsed his hands under the pump.

            “That’s what this is about. You’re trying to set me up with her,” Danse straightened and then folded his arms across his flannel shirt. He only wore the flight suit when he was using his power armor. And he was starting to think he didn’t want to anymore if he could find something to replace it. Maybe Walker would allow him to have one of her Vault suits….

            Nora lifted her hands, “I got it, Piper is too in-your-face and Cait has the same problem, just physically not metaphorically. But I think I struck gold with this one, Sebastian.”

            “I’m not comfortable with this. I still have so much that I’m figuring out–”

            “See, that’s where it’s great,” she cut him off and grabbed him by the biceps. “She’s a synth too. Just got that body. She was a Miss Nanny, now you two can… learn how to be who you are together,” she smiled up at him and Danse’s brows drew together farther.

            “She’s a synth?”

            “Yeah, it’s kinda complicated. She… surpassed what her robot body could allow her to do, so she sought out another body, a synth was the only realistic choice.”

            He nodded once and shifted his jaw around. He had spend all the life he knew hating synths, and now he was not only having to swallow the bitter truth that he _was_ one, but that the only person he trusted in the world wanted to set him up with one.

            “Give her a chance, Sebastian,” Nora gazed up at him with her wide hazel-green eyes. “Don’t keep yourself from being happy because you don’t think you deserve it.”

            He clenched his jaw and looked away from her, at his suit of power armor. He wished he was wearing it, so she couldn’t see his face, so that he could be protected from anything and everything in this world…

            But himself.

 

 

            MacCready and Nora left first, taking Duncan and Shaun up the road to Sanctuary before stopping back by to grab their things and head southwest for the transit center for Nuka World. When they were officially out of sight, Cait threw her hands up, offering an obscene gesture and declared she would be in the Combat Zone should the ‘bosses’ return before she feels like coming back. Piper was next, and Nick went with her, both deciding it had been too long since they’d checked one Nat and Ellie. Hancock quickly followed after them when he glanced sideways at Sebastian and caught the ex-soldier glaring at him.

            Curie and Danse remained, standing awkwardly side by side with a not-quite-enough ten-foot space between them. He turned around and headed into the Station to work on his power armor.

            “So, it is just you and me, then,” she said quietly with her strange accent. Danse had never heard anything like it from anyone but the robots he now knew she had been. Her voice was… soft though, high, but kind, and he couldn’t help but glance back at her.

            She was a small thing, someone who would have been a scribe in the Brotherhood because she probably wouldn’t have been able to keep up with the other ranks. Based on the notebook she kept in her back pocket and scribbled in constantly, scribe wasn’t too far off of what she was now. He could imagine her in the fatigues, in the field scribe uniform…

            She would look cute, her dark hair tied up just how she had it now but tucked into a hood, the sweater and packs building up her slight form. Danse’s head tilted some as he looked at her, she was writing in her notebook, biting her lip as she tried to word something and seemed to struggle. As she thought, she brushed a stray lock of fringe that was too short to be kept in the bun. Her hair was almost as dark as his with a brown hint to it. Her eyes were squeezed shut right now.

            He wondered what color they were.

            Danse blinked and shook his head, kneeling behind his power armor with a wrench to check on the right leg actuator, it was starting to get sticky. He didn’t like that.

            “Monsieur Danse?”

            He glanced up to see her staring at him with curious eyes. They were amber. “Yes?”

            “Is… there anything to eat? I seem to be suffering from hunger and I am unfamiliar with…”

            “Yes,” he stood up and wiped his hands on a rag from his back pocket, leaving behind black smears. “Follow me.”

            She did, sitting on a stool beside the tables in the front of the Station. It had been the part that was a store, before the war. Curie sat straight with her notebook open and pen in hand while she watched him open coolers and pull out some meat.

            “Do you like Brahmin?”

            “I do not know,” she whispered and looked down at her hands, her pen tapping against her thumb.

            “That’s fine, I like it, if you don’t I’ll eat what both and make you something else,” he offered her a smiled comfortingly, lopsidedly, as was the only genuine way he could smile. Her amber eyes locked on his lips, how the right corner lifted higher and dimpled his cheek. When he lifted a brow at her she started and turned, scribbling into her little book.

            Danse tried not to think too hard about that, but he couldn’t stop the whole time he grilled the beef. He looked at her while he cooked and caught her staring, her chin resting on her palm. They made each other laugh, him telling her of times in the Brotherhood when soldiers would attempt at cooking something better than the rations handed out, while she told him of some happy times in the Vault she came from before the scientists she had been with died. By the time he was done, he’d realized she was drawing.

            “What is it?” he asked, placing her plate in front of her and taking the stool beside her.

            “Oh!” she closed the book and flushed bright. “It is only a… uh, sketch,” she shook her head and he leaned forward.

            “Come on, let me see?”

            “Oh no,” she bit her lip and squeezed the pad shut.

            “All right, well you should try the Brahmin and tell me if you like it.”

            She did, and when she chewed, her eyes widened and she threw open her notebook and started writing in it. He saw a flash of the sketch, it looked humanoid, but he really couldn’t be sure. She spoke about how good the food was, and he told her he wasn’t very good. They ate all of it, and then relaxed into one of the couches in the back of the Station to let their stuffed stomachs settle. Curie continued to write and he watched her, brows drawn close.

            “Why’re you keeping notes?”

            “Oh, I…” she tilted her head thoughtfully and used her pen to push some hair from her forehead. “I am studying myself, since I have no experiments at the moment. It brings me comfort.”

            “What do you have so far?”

            “Just… meaningless scribbles, Monsieur Danse.”

            “You can call me Sebastian, no need to be formal.”

            “Oh, Sebastian…” she breathed and looked over at him.

            He tilted his head at her. It was only about noon, but neither of them had anything that needed done, so they didn’t move. “Nora told me you were a Miss Nanny?”

            “Oui, I was. I wanted to be able to further my research, to…” she frowned and thought. “Imagination, inspiration, creativity, they are all things that cannot be crafted and given to robot. Even individualism is programmed. I sought to move beyond that, to be able to be like the great minds before the war,” she explained and he nodded, leaning forward to grab the Nuka Cola he’d gotten himself. When she went for the Cherry beside his, he snagged it first and handed it to her. “Oh, je vous remercie,” she breathed and smiled. Shyly, she drank as he watched her and her cheeks flushed. “What is it, Sebastian?”

            “Did Nora tell you she is trying to set us up?” he asked and she choked on her soda.

            “Oh my, I… do not think I understand.”

            “Set us up like she wants us to be together… romantically.”

            Her face was red, bright and she fanned herself. “Oh my… this is… much.”

            “I agree,” he cleared his throat and shifted to give her some room.

            “I… I think I need a moment, excusez–moi,” she stood and nearly ran from him, leaving behind her notebook and Nuka Cherry.

            Danse rubbed at his face and finished his Nuka Cola. He should have kept his mouth shut. That was so inappropriate and she was surly uncomfortable now, not to mention she probably thought he was some sort of creeper. Frowning, the ex-soldier leaned forward and picked up her notebook, opening it up to look at the drawing she had hidden from him.

            It was a man, dressed in a button up, standing with a hand at the back of his neck and a hand out toward the viewer. He looked like Danse. But it was the next picture after that was no doubt the ex-Paladin. It was a close up of his face, done in the same sketchy, but detailed style as the full body. It had his eyes squinted against his wide, lopsided grin, open enough to show his teeth, and dimple his right cheek.

            She was a talented artist. His gaze fell to the notes around the drawing. Comments about how his smile made her feel, and that ultimately, she wanted to see it any chance she got.

            Danse felt the bridge of his nose go hot and spread to his cheeks. She was attracted to him, and he was pretty sure he felt similarly. He needed to go talk to her.

            Her house was beside his, a blue door, cool and kind, like her personality. He knocked gently and waited for her to open it. When it cracked she peeked her head out and looked up at him.

            “Mon–er, Sebastian,” she whispered and he nodded.

            “I came to apologize, and bring you your notebook.”

            “Oh, did you…” she blushed and he bit his lip. She opened the door more as he held it out for her to take.

            “Yes, I looked at it.”

            “Oh, I–I am so sorry, I should not have–”

            He leaned down and kissed her. Her words fumbled on his lips, but he didn’t pull away. She fanned herself as he lifted a hand and held her gently at the neck and back. Curie stopped trying to speak and rested her hands on his chest. This gave him a little more confidence and he tilted his head to kiss her deeper. A soft moan escaped her lips and she shifted forward, pressing up against his chest.

            When he pulled away, they both panted, trying to catch their breaths.

            When he could speak he whispered, “I find myself attracted to you, too, Curie.”

            She flushed and looked down at the space between them. “I… I should like to experiment… if that is all right with you…”

            “As long as it doesn’t hurt,” he smiled and her eyes locked on the dimple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's rushed on purpose, I wanted this to be short, so don't judge me please /hides in a corner/ I REALLY was trying to make it a one shot, and now this is already going to be at least two more chapters (I hope.)


	3. Proportions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smut! Finally!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was SUPPOSED to be a one shot, so that's why it's so... short. And a little awkward. I didn't want to get a plot started, so I'm cutting this off before it gets too... deep. I might add more later. But for now, this is the end.

**Curie**

 

            Sebastian was a large man, much larger than her, and she liked it. Her mind told her it was evolutionary, as a female, she would seek out large, dominant males that could keep her safe and provide her with a strong bloodline. Danse was a perfect example, his whole being seemed to be evolutionary perfection.

            When he kissed her… it felt perfect. It felt right.

            She wanted to do it again.

            But she also wanted to do her best to keep track of her feelings, of what was happening, and what it could mean. Her notebook was getting filled quickly, and she knew she would need another one soon.

            Now, as night darkened the sky, and she sat beside him in front of the fire pit that had been built under the rocket of the Station. Nora had long ago put park benches round it, and had tattered blankets in a hamper inside the station for anyone who wanted to sit out here like they were now. Danse had gotten them the softest one and wrapped it around her, leaving himself out of it mostly. She wondered if he was cold at all. His flesh was warm when it brushed hers, and she didn’t see any gooseflesh along his exposed forearms.

            “Sebastian?”

            “Yes?” he tilted his head down to look at her with soft brown eyes, accented with the flames’ reflection.

            “The… kiss,” she started and he nodded. “Can we… do that again?” Curie felt her cheeks grow warm, and noticed the faint blush on his face –starting at the bridge of his nose and working out to his cheekbones.

            “If you’d like,” he said softly and she found herself bobbing her head maybe with a little too much excitement.

            The man’s large hand came up and cupped her face, using his thumb to tilt her chin up and give him a better angle to kiss her. His thick lips were soft on hers with the rough, course hairs of his beard scratching at her like a lovely sandpaper. She hadn’t expected to like the feeling, but it sort of tickled, and made her smile against his lips. Her fingers trailed up his arms to his neck and then face, touching him with closed eyes, imagining him as she let her lips dance with his.

            His other hand slid down her side and then reached under her, and pulled her easily into his lap, causing the blanket to fall down. She shuddered and he broke the kiss only long enough to reach down and grab it up off the ground. “Here,” he said around her mouth and secured it back over her shoulders and she smiled, adjusting herself with her knees on either side of his hips while she sat on his thighs. His hands rested on her shoulders and then slid down to her hips. “Better?”

            “Oui,” she whispered and he gave her that dimpled smile. He must enjoy her accent and French use.

            “Good,” he pulled her into another kiss, his hands slipping up into her hair so that he pulled her bun out. She didn’t mind, not with how good it felt to have him comb through her hair and give her gentle tugs. It didn’t hurt, it was simply enough she could feel it in her roots. She liked it enough she copied, and did the same to him, her small, delicate digits tangling in the thick black locks.

            Surprisingly, when she gave a tug, he groaned into her mouth.

            The sound made her body quiver and she resisted the urge to grab her notebook to write it down.

            One of his hands slid down and cupped her rear, causing her to gasp and press into him. He growled, his teeth taking her lower lip, and she felt another wave of shock fall through her. What was happening? What was he doing to her? It felt so good, she could feel it down between her legs: an aching that was near primal.

            The soldier’s mouth moved down to her neck then, and he bit her gently, drawing out sounds she’d never made previously, accompanied with gasps and moans. Curie was starting to feel overwhelmed until Danse’s hand squeezed her rear and pulled her forward, her core coming up hard against something stiff in his pants.

            “Oh my!” she gasped and stiffened so that she pressed her chest right into his face and the man growled again, his hand on her behind tightened, holding her there so that he could nose her shirt away and find the soft flesh of her breast. “Oh–” Curie panted looked down at him.

            Danse’s eyes were closed as he sucked pale marks into the tops of her breasts and used his nose to push the fabric farther out of the way. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, finally, looking up at her with dark, dark eyes.

            “No,” it was a breathless whisper. “I want more…”

            “Affirmative,” he snarled sexily and his teeth snagged the front of her shirt and tugged it down so that she fell out of it. Embarrassed, Curie looked around desperately to make sure no one was watching.

            They were out in the open at Red Rocket, right next to a major trade route for Sanctuary, and Danse was acting like they were back in the safety and privacy of their homes. His confidence was… exhilarating, and heightened the experience.

            Sebastian latched onto her nipple then, and she felt her head spin. It was amazing. His tongue flicked it while he sucked on it as if to draw milk. She stared down at him with a curious expression, her eyes and mouth wide in surprise and awe. He held the other, his first finger and thumb twisting and pinching the nipple to get her to writhe.

            “Oh là là,” Curie breathed and shifted her hips in his lap.

            “Is this acceptable?” he turned his eyes up to hers and she nodded frantically, not wanting him to stop. “Outstanding,” the soldier moved his hand to her back from her breast and pulled her back to him, switching to the one he had yet to taste.

            “Ah–Sebastian,” she gripped his hair for support and moaned over his head like an animal when her pleasure peaked. He had only touched her breasts and she had climaxed. Her body shook and tensed up, quivering under his hands as he held her to keep her from falling out of his lap.

            Danse smiled at her, lips curled and right cheek dimpled. “Do you need a moment?”

            “Yes,” she panted and held fast to his shoulders, trying to steady her breathing. “I have never… but you know that….”

            He nodded and tilted his head at her. “I’ve only been intimate a few times. It was… never serious.”

            Curie wet her lips. “How do we… proceed?”

            “However you like…”

            She thought about that for a moment. How did she want to move forward? This was all so exciting and new, and she felt like a child in a candy store. The sensations that shook her were mind numbing, and her primal instincts were starting to take over. How could a synth have such desires? Was this body not made in a lab?

            It was so interesting she started to distract herself and the soldier placed a kiss on her exposed breast to pull her back. His face was tinted red with a blush, and she started to get the feeling he wasn’t as comfortable or confidant as he let on.

            “Perhaps we retire to one of our homes? So as to remain private…”

            He nodded and stood up, his hands on her keeping her firmly in place on his front. She let out a surprised breath and held onto him tightly.

            Sebastian was strong, though, and easily carried her back to the houses. Curie felt sort of childlike as he shifted her in his grasp, her legs constricted around his waist, and held her with one arm to open his door and let them in.

            Danse’s house was just like hers, but he had some personal effects lying around. Everything was neat, kept clean and orderly, and she turned her gaze back on his face as he closed the door and tilted his head at her.

            “Is this okay?”

            “Oui.”

            When he came forward, his movement was slow, near predatory. Her heart kick started all over and she watched him come toward her. Then he reached down, scooped her up, and carried her over to the stairs.

            Their lips met again and she closed her eyes, holding his face, letting her fingers trace his features. His beard scratched at her and she giggled into his mouth, making him smile. Her thumb brushed that dimple, and then she gasped as they tipped over and started to fall.

            They landed on a bed. Danse was careful not to hurt her, and they shifted around each other until he was between her legs, his waist grinding against hers. It felt good, the friction working her right back up into that excitement that had her climax just moments ago.

            The soldier’s mouth moved down to her throat and he kissed and sucked on the skin there drawing out moans from the woman under him.

            “Oh–Sebastian,” she breathed and he removed her shirt and bra, opening her up to him and took full advantage of it.

            All cognitive thought went out the window and she barely noticed him removing her pants and stripping himself as his mouth explored her, dragging the lovely sandpaper of his face over her soft, virgin skin.

            She _did_ notice when he ended up between her legs and buried his face in her folds and pushed his tongue into her.

            “Oh–” she gasped and lurched forward to look down at him. His arms were tucked under her legs and his hands held her hips, pulling her to him as he lapped at her like a dehydrated hound. “Oh–Sebastian! That is quite–ah!– unsanitary!”

            His soft eyes were animalistic when they flicked up to look at her. “Do you want me to stop?” he growled into her, and she shuttered.

            “No–no, keep… oui…” she panted and locked her fingers in his hair as he eat her, the sensation driving her high and she cried out his name, a shuttering quake ripping through her, causing her toes to curl and her body to go stiff.

            Danse lifted his face and smiled at her, wiping off his face. “Would you like to keep going?”

            “More? I… do not think I can!” she breathed and fell back into the bed.

            The soldier climbed over her and kissed his way up from her stomach to her breasts, lingering to give them loving sucks and drag his tongue heavily over the nipple. Then he finished his trek with a trail of caresses to her ear. “I’ll stop if that’s what you want, Curie.”

            No. Stopping was the exact _opposite_ of what she wanted right now. “More, s’il vous plait.”

            He chuckled, “What?”

            “Please.”

            “Yes, ma’am,” he kissed her, finding her swollen lips easily and worked them open so his tongue could slip right in and dance with hers.

            Now she was helping him, turning loose his belt and unfastening his jeans. His hands pressed into the mattress on either side of her to hold himself up, but as she started to push his pants down, he shifted his weight and supported himself with one arm. Her eyes cracked open and she looked sideways at the muscle of his bicep, her breath faltering at the sight.

            His chuckle brought her eyes back up. Curie bit her lip.

            “You are a physiological marvel, Sebastian…”

            “Brotherhood training will do that to you,” he shifted his hips to work off his jeans and she helped, noting he still wore his holotags. Her eyes settled on them:

            _Danse_

            _Sebastian J._

            _DN-407P_

_O NEG_

_Christian_

            The words were inscribed simply and carefully on the steel of the plate facing her. He didn’t notice her hold them still to read it clearer. “What does the J stand for?”

            He blinked and kicked off the last of his clothes. “Oh, uh, Julius.”

            Curie smiled at that. “Like Caesar?”

            Danse smiled and shrugged, coming back down to her. “You would know better than me.”

            She was going to start telling him about the ruler, but his mouth took hers again, and she felt something rubbing against her. It glided over her clit and made her buck her hips. Then he shifted his waist and she felt it part her lower lips. This was happening. Right now. She was going to have intercourse with this man.

            Her heart pounded and she held to him tightly, her fingers digging into his shoulder and tangling in his hair. Her lets wrapped around his hips, and he slowly lowered himself to her.

            Curie sucked in a breath and bit her lip while the soldier kissed her cheek and slowly pushed up into her, filling her virgin sex quickly, and stretching her. It was uncomfortable, but the way he held her, his arms around her, securing her to him, made her feel better. He kissed her sweetly, and hummed, not moving while she adjusted under him.

            “Are you ready?” he whispered when she was finished getting comfortable.

            “Oui, just… go slow,” she whispered and he nodded.

            “Yes, ma’am.” Curie giggled and flushed at that and he smiled, swaying his hips so that she felt him press against her walls. “You like that?”

            “Oui.”

            “I love your accent…” he whispered in her ear, his voice sounding thick, and it made her shift.

            Danse withdrew, then, and her breath left her when he pushed back in. “I liked that,” she praised and he did it again, over and over, picking up speed, and getting a little rougher.

            It hurt a little, but it… was a good pain.

            Her mind raced, trying to keep the feelings in mind. She wanted to remember this for the end so she could write it all down. She wanted to make sure she recalled everything as it was. But the soldier’s rhythm quickly distracted her. His fingers found her hair, close to the root where he held tight and gave gentle tugs to tilt her head, freeing her up for his lips, his tongue, his teeth to find her neck and shoot new sensations down her spine.

            His other hand moved from under her to her side, her hip, to her breast, and then down to her rear. He was so much bigger than her, overwhelming, but comforting. She felt tiny under him, defenseless, but at the same time, perfectly safe. Here, in this man’s arms, she was safe, and nothing could touch her. The pleasure he was giving her was hers, a wonderful gift from him, personally, and with each thrust he growled into her ear, words of endearment mixed with her name.

            Beautiful.

            Curie.

            Perfect.

            Curie.

            Amazing…

            Danse pulled away from her and smiled when she whimpered. Her legs were lifted up in front of his chest and he leaned forward, over her, his fists in the mattress on either side of her. Then he picked back up on the rhythm and Curie realized why he changed positions. With her spine curled like this and her knees near her face, he got deeper and hit a bundle of nerves he hadn’t previously. The sensation made her gasp and cry out his name, grabbing onto his strong arms to give her some anchor as he drove her deep into the bed and high into pleasure.

            Sebastian straightened up some, moving one of his hands up to hold her leg and pulled it close, his lips trailing up the ankle, sending shudders down her spine while he continued his steady pace. How did he seem to know just where she was most sensitive when she had no idea? All of her medical training hadn’t prepared her for this. It was like some sort of over load. Too much input, and she had no way to express the pleasure she was experiencing but in the mewls and moans that escaped between her pathetic attempts to voice his name.

            The kisses trailed up her ankle to the underside of her foot, and tickled some as they turned to bites on her heel. She could only imagine what he was putting in his mouth right now, but that thought was quickly tossed away when his other hand touched her face. Without thinking, she turned her face into his palm and opened her lips when his thumb brushed them.

            When she accepted his digit into her mouth he stared down at her in surprise, and his rhythm falters. The soldier picked it back up quickly though, and as she sucked on him, clamped down on him, and moaned with her back arching, he growled her name in a near warning before pulling out of her and spilled his seed onto the mattress between them.

            They both panted, pulling apart just enough to relax. Curie’s legs were brought back down to the bed, and she let out a long, steadying breath as he fell in beside her. Right away she rolled over to face him. Despite how sweaty they both were, she didn’t want their physical contact to end.

            “That… was astounding, Sebastian,” she said breathlessly. He gave her a smile, lying on his back, looking at her through a cracked eye, while he pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and tried to steady his breathing.

            “I’m happy you enjoyed it, Curie.”

            She grinned and nodded, shifting closer to his side and rest her hand on his chest. “I did very much. Will… we do it again?”

            He sighed and nodded, closing his eyes. “I think that would be acceptable. Better than a training exercise,” he chuckled and she rested her head on his shoulder. It was… odd. She felt attached to him now.

            It was… a nice feeling. She liked it. Danse was… he made her feel safe, and for the first time since she’d become a synth, she felt really, truly, and honestly happy.

            Normal.

            Human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Little bit of Awkwardness from our two favorite gen 3 followers :D xD
> 
> Thank you! for reading! Kudos! Subscribing! Commenting! it all!
> 
> Have a great day!
> 
> I look forward to seeing you in another fic!

**Author's Note:**

> This might sound bad, but I don't travel with Curie often, so I hope I caught her personality right, she seemed to flow for me fairly easily, hope that's a good sign. I decided not to try to make the accent noticeable in the reading, I know that's a turn off to some people, but I thought I'd keep the french words –seeing as that's a part of her– and hopefully I did her some justice.


End file.
